


Alien!Clark

by qwerty



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alien Reproduction, Angst and Humor, Crack, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-05-10
Updated: 2002-05-10
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:32:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/188007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwerty/pseuds/qwerty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark goes forth and multiplies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alien!Clark

**Author's Note:**

> This was written, wow, 10 years ago now? During season 1. Good times.

He was exhausted and chafed all over, especially... down there. Thank his father's extravagance for the silk sheets. His ass frankly ached. Clark clambered up to him again, panting, wild-eyed, flushed, and his body warm and sleek with exertion, the combination at once demanding sympathy and a traitorous prickle of interest from his overworked dick.

"We've been doing this for days, Lex! Why aren't you pregnant yet?" His dear, innocent alien farmboy scrubbed a hand through his sweat-damp hair and huffed. "I need to reproduce!"

Should he tell Clark that even if his human and Clark's Kryptonian physiologies were somehow compatible, he was a male and wouldn't be able to actually bear children? Because obviously the Kents hadn't been telling their darling little alien son about the birds and the bees, and he was probably going to die of exhaustion shortly, but what a way to..." Why don't you give it another try and see?" his mouth prompted before consulting the rest of him.

Clark chewed his lower lip, his fine brow furrowed in thought. "I don't know, Lex. I- Maybe I should try Whitney or Lana." Clark started to turn away, and Lex found the strength to grab frantically for him.

"No, Clark, wait!" Clark pulled away and he fell-

* * *

"Lex! You fell asleep on me," Clark accused, all pouty, rosy lips, apple cheeks and limpid eyes glimmering with hurt.

Lex blinked, and took stock of his surroundings. His room, his bed, and Clark. "I- I'm sorry. What is it?" Clark blushed all over, and sidled up to him shyly, radiant with joy. Lex felt affection well up in him and cuddled Clark closer. Clark mumbled into his neck.

"Yes?" he asked encouragingly. Quite unexpectedly, and most delightfully, the boy had turned out to have a lot of kinks he wanted to try out. Lex enjoyed letting Clark experiment in his bed and on his body.

"I'm pregnant," Clark repeated, and batted his long lashes.

Lex felt his head spinning, and-

* * *

Sometime during the night, he had the vague impression that Clark had gotten up, moved around a little, adjusting the bedding, grunting with effort. He'd felt a twinge of anxiety, but Clark patted him reassuringly and he'd drifted back into sleep.

Clark was gently shaking him awake. "Lex, are you awake?"

He blinked and shook his head groggily, trying to clear the last vestiges of sleep from his mind. "You're not pregnant, right?"

Clark stared at him as if he'd grown another head. "Lex?"

"Just a dream," he muttered apologetically. "Sorry. What did you want?"

Clark pushed something hard and smooth into his arms. "Can you sort of keep this warm for a while? I need to use the bathroom, and maybe get something to eat. Just... curl up around it, like this," he finished, rearranging Lex's slack limbs around it to his satisfaction.

"Wha- what's this?" Lex managed to ask, eyeing the smooth, white thing, rather like an ostrich egg in shape, only bigger.

Clark beamed with pride. "It's our egg, Lex. We're going to have a baby!"

"Oh." That was all he could find to say before-

* * *

He jerked awake to moist crunching sounds in his bed. He lay listening to the slurping and gulping swallows, sounds of chewing and sucking and again the wet crunching and a cough. Someone was eating in his bed.

Movement caught out of the corner of his eye - black hair, a flash of golden skin. Clark. He smiled, remembering last night, and inhaled the olfactory reminders of their activities - smells of sweat and semen and something coppery - blood. Clark!

Fear surged through him, and he would have leapt up to see if Clark was all right, but his limbs failed to respond. Numb. Or rather, paralyzed. He couldn't move a muscle, couldn't feel a thing. The smell of blood grew stronger, as well as other less pleasant, offal smells he couldn't quite identify. And still the sounds of mastication and desperate gulping continued.

"Clark?" he called out tentatively, and Clark's white face jerked up guiltily, sick with horror, red splattered about his pretty mouth twisted in pain. Tears brimmed in his scared eyes, and Lex ached for him though he was beginning to realize what was happening.

"I'm sorry, Lex," gasped Clark, squeezing his eyes shut in agony, clutching himself tightly about the stomach as if something was about to burst out. "I'm so sorry, Lex, but I'm very, very hungry." He bent his head once more, and the crunching noises resumed.

* * *

"Clark!" His body felt absurdly heavy, and his limbs flopped uselessly about him as he struggled to get himself upright, but at least he could feel! But where was he? Hard wooden boards beneath him, gritty with sand and prickly straw. Dark ceiling and walls, a tarp-covered lump to one side... the Kents' storm cellar. He finally managed to flop on his side to face the glazed eyes of a cow.

He turned his head slowly, even that slight movement growing increasingly difficult and slow. He could barely feel his body now. Bodies strewn everywhere, farm animals and people, splayed like forgotten toys abandoned where they fell. And like him, they still breathed, but could not move otherwise, lying helpless in this strange... stockpile.

Clark bounded in with another cow slung over his shoulder, eyes bright with excitement. He carelessly swung it onto an unoccupied space and bounced to Lex. "You wanted me?"

Bitterness rose in his throat, and he gagged it down, struggled to find words, unable to articulate his question as he looked around the cellar again. Even his eyes were getting hard to move. "A- all these..." He couldn't finish.

Clark smiled happily and stroked his scalp gently. If he could have shuddered, he would. "For our children, Lex." He nodded at a mound of pearly white spheres near the tarp. "They'll need fresh food. When they hatch." Faint shadows seemed to move in the spheres, or perhaps it was merely his imagination...

* * *

He woke screaming, but his panic dissolved the instant he felt Clark's hand on his shoulder, and realized that yes! HE WAS SCREAMING! He grabbed Clark and hugged him with all his might (after checking for blood and bodies around the room), exulting at the feel of Clark's warm skin against his. His room, his bed, his body, and his Clark!

Clark hugged him back, wide-eyed and adorably confused. "What's wrong, Lex?" He snuggled closer and stroked Lex's smooth scalp soothingly.

Lex felt his blood run cold as his heart skipped a beat, then he shook himself out of it and glanced away quickly, unable to meet Clark's wondering eyes. Damn his paranoia and his biology texts. "Nothing, he denied in obviously guilty tones.

"You were screaming my name," Clark accused softly. "That's not nothing."

"I'm all right now. Just a nightmare," he attempted to shrug dismissively, but it turned into a shudder. Clark's fine brows knitted in concern.

"What's bugging you, Lex?"

Of all the things he'd done in his short life that he hadn't been proud of, he would always remember this as one of his lowest points. Lex Luthor screamed like a girl.

*

"You could have just asked if you were curious," muttered Clark sulkily in a chair across the room, his back pointedly turned. "I would have told you there was nothing to worry about. I knew I shouldn't have told you the truth."

Lex sighed. Once he'd peeled himself off the ceiling and put things in context, he suddenly lost all his nervous energy. He felt strung out with exhaustion and relief, but he also felt guilty and stupid. Nothing like a pouty, righteous farmboy to make you feel like the heel you are. Nothing like your own paranoia to make you feel like the idiot you are. "I'm sorry, Clark."

"Hmph!"

"Will you come back to bed, please?"

Apparently deciding he had made his point, Clark zipped back to curl up by his side and poutily drew circles on his chest.

He knew he shouldn't ask, not at this time at least, but- "So how do Kryptonians do it? Like humans?"

Clark sniffed disdainfully. "We're asexual. We reproduce by budding."

"By... budding."

"Yeah, like this." Clark closed his eyes, frowning in concentration for several moments, and all of a sudden, there was a little Clark and the big Clark was...

"You- you're smaller," Lex babbled. "And the kid- what do we do with-"

Big Clark shrugged carelessly. "Feed me. I can just keep eating and growing. Mom found out it was about a hundred pounds of food to each inch of height, at least at first. The growth rate tapers off as I get bigger. Him," he waved a hand at the little Clark, who sucked his thumb and blinked in bemusement, "he can be a cousin or something."

Lex hesitantly patted the little Clark's head, and the little Clark beamed up at him with fatuous adoration. He tried to make some quick mental calculations. Big Clark stared at him, his eyes suddenly stormy. "You're not thinking about a harem are you?"

"Of course not, he reassured big Clark quickly. "Would I do something like that to you? Nice kid." He patted the toddler's head again, and little Clark gurgled happily.

The future was looking brighter and brighter.

* * *

He closed his eyes, remembering the way the veins had stood out on Clark's skin, how his flesh seemed to turn gray, then green. How old Clark had looked, face screwed up in agony as he tried to crawl away from the deadly meteor rocks, as Lionel's thugs grabbed him roughly and pulled him towards the waiting van...

I expected better of you. His father's voice, scornful yet amused, as if he'd expected no such thing.

He should have known the manor would be bugged. He knew he should have stopped Clark from making his fatal confession, let him do it anywhere else. Anywhere but here. The Beanery would have been much safer and more private.

Clark. In Luthorcorp's laboratories. What were they doing to him even now? As little as he recalled of what he'd seen in the non-existent Level Three, he recoiled from the thought.

Jonathan had been right about him. Clark should have listened to his father.

He shook his head fiercely, trying to clear it of his dark thoughts. All this self-recrimination wasn't going to help Clark. He had to get Clark out of there.

 _Lex..._ He jerked out of his reverie, looking around in panic for the source of that voice, Clark's voice. His imagination? Was he going crazy? Please let it be his imagination, he prayed, don't let Clark be dead-

 _Lex..._ Clark's voice, in his mind, as he'd heard it in the cornfields, a million years ago. He covered his mouth with his hands to stop himself from answering. "No," he gasped, sucking in air in grief and perversely twisted relief. "No, please. Not like this."

_Lex... please..._

"Please... Clark... Clark--"

_Lex...Don't be afraid...Come to me, Lex. Follow my voice. It's going to be all right._

He walked from the manor without taking anything, uncertain if he was delusional or if Clark's ghost was indeed summoning him, but sure of one thing: He didn't want anything of his father's.

He doubted if he was coming back.

_Lex..._

I'm coming, Clark. Wait for me.

Somehow he found his way to the Kent farm; the place of his shame, of his utter failure - as a friend, a lover, a son - as anything of value. His feet were aching, and he was no longer certain if he was walking because he wanted to or because he didn't know how to stop. He thought Clark might be leading him to Jonathan's shotgun, but at the last instant, Clark ordered him to turn off the road towards the storm cellar.

He stumbled down the steps, fumbling for the lights. They came on, lighting up a strange tarp-covered mound in the center of the room.

 _Pull off the tarp._ He obeyed, and found beneath a glistening capsule... a spaceship, proof of Clark's words, of his ghost's existence... Strangling a sob, Lex rested his head on the cool metal, waiting for further instructions.

_Press the green button, Lex._

The spaceship hissed open with a gust of mist, and a little gray X-files looking alien leapt out and flung its little arms around his neck, bussing him soundly on his mouth. He might have screamed and shoved it off if not for Clark's excited voice in his mind. _Lex! You came for me! I'm so glad!_

"Clark?" he bleated incredulously. "You're Clark? What about--"

The little alien squeezed his neck some more. _I was going to tell you later, after you got used to the idea I was an alien. That was just an android I use to go about unnoticed and help out around the farm. It's operated by remote control._

"And the meteor rocks?"

 _The radiation interferes with my signals,_ Clark explained sheepishly. _And um, if it loses contact with my ship too long, it will self-destruct. In fact, it's probably going to happen about... now._

A shockwave rippled through the ground, loosening earth and puffing up dust. Lex thought faintly they didn't have to worry about Lionel or his goons any more. A horrible thought occurred to him then.

"Clark, tell me why you fell in love with me."

Clark gazed up at him shyly with his huge, soulful eyes. _You're the most normal looking human I've ever seen, even if you're too big. All the other humans are so... so..._ Clark was obviously struggling to find a polite word for it.

"Hairy?" he suggested wearily.

 _Exactly!_ Then Clark hesitated, considering his lack of enthusiasm. _I know I look funny to you too, but I'm having another body made. It's like the old one, but with a squarer jaw and blue eyes, like Dad's. Do you mind?_

"Of course not, " he sighed, and hugged Clark back.

* * *

**Epilogue**  
Lex opened his eyes and slowly turned his head to take in the vision of the tousled black head beside his on the pillow. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious. But perhaps some things were better left unknown. Whither thou goest. Whatever. And perhaps there was nothing to worry about after all.


End file.
